


The First Steps

by Detownley



Category: Far Cry 5
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-27
Updated: 2018-09-27
Packaged: 2019-07-18 06:29:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,082
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16112756
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Detownley/pseuds/Detownley
Summary: With the whole county crumbling around them, Reader has decided that they can’t go on doing the bidding of Eden’s Gate. Inspired by the Deputy and the Resistance that surrounds them, Reader flees the oppressive thumb of the Seed family and embarks on a new path; a path towards freedom.





	The First Steps

“Kill that fuckin’ Judas!” A man bellows, his roar echoing through the trees as you weave between them, leaping over roots and rocks that lay in your path.  
You’d been a member of this so-called “church” for 6 years – 6 years too long, if you as you. Like many in the Project, you were just a kid when you arrived on their doorstep; a kid in search of solace and belonging. Eden’s Gate had welcomed you with open arms immediately and once you’d wandered naively into its embrace, it engulfed you and swallowed you whole. The church hadn’t been what it had promised. It wasn’t comfort or kindness or redemption – it was pain and misery and since The Reaping begun, it had been bloodshed, too. You could see this ship sinking and you were certainly no captain, so you’d be damned if you were going down with it. With only the filthy, torn-up clothes on your back and nothing left to lose, you abandoned that ship; leaping into the murky water below and sinking to the bottom, letting the deafening silence of the water thud against your eardrums as you relished in the feeling of your new-found liberty.  
But that feeling hadn’t lasted long.  
It turns out that once you’re part of a cult, you can’t simply _leave._ You can mysteriously disappear from your bed in the dead of night, just like the many doubtful followers and suborn souls before you, but you can’t _leave_... Not alive, at least.  
So you’re running – running as fast as your legs can carry you – and you don’t dare look back at the men and women who follow, mere metres behind you; former friends and surrogate family members who now sprint through the brush behind you, praying that they catch up with you just for the chance to see you hang from an overpass or a bridge over the Henbane.  
You wonder what evil things you must have done in a past life to deserve the level of disdain and hatred that’s being aimed your way. These people would have done anything for you 24 hours ago, and now they want nothing more than to see your blood smeared across the road. It all turned sour so fast. There had been rumours about you – whispers circulating from every corner of the county, from the tip-top of the Whitetail mountains, all the way down to the muddy ditches of Holland Valley – that said you were another lost soul that was straying from the path. “Thinkin’ of deserting,” they’d said. “You’ll stay put if you know what’s good for you.”  
Stupidly, you’d confirmed those rumours in the middle of a sermon. You’d risen from your seat and stepped into the aisle. The eyes of everyone in the room had fallen on you and in the midst of exhaustion and the inability to live like this anymore, you’d announced your departure – much to the dismay of The Father. Pfft. “The Father” – what a load of bullshit. You guess you should start calling him Joseph, now. Not that you ever enjoyed calling him “Father,” anyway. He was nothing like a dad – at least, not _your_ dad. Fathers are meant to be kind and caring, and they’re _supposed_ to love you unconditionally. But Joseph offers none of those things; not _genuinely_ , anyway. He’s a snake, wrapping himself around the throats of any unsuspecting victim who crosses his path and squeezing the life out of them. He’s a crook. Just another megalomaniac in search of a power trip. Oh God, why did you fall into his trap so easily? What were you thinking? He and his siblings must have had such a good time laughing at you; watching from their cushy tower as you and the other followers bent over backwards for them, thinking you were on some kind of mission given to you by the Heavens. They must have thought you were so gullible – well, maybe you were. But not now. You’re closing in on the road that runs through Joseph’s island, imagining yourself flipping them the bird as you break away from the shackles they’ve held you in – **the first step towards freedom.**  
You’re getting farther and farther away from the compound and you’ll be hitting Resistance territory, soon. Ever since the Deputy crawled out of the burning shell of that helicopter, they’d been taking back the county inch by inch. It had been such an annoyance to you all those weeks ago; you’d all tried your hardest to capture them, but they escaped time and time again, no matter how hard you worked to ensure that they remained in the clutches of the Seeds. As you keep running – your throat burning and your legs threatening to give out underneath you – you can see why the resistance finds that lowly Deputy so inspiring. After everything the cult had put them through – everything you’d put them through – they’d escaped. And you can see now that that was the only thing the residents of this county wanted; to _escape_. You can only hope that you manage to flee this evil family, just like they did. Maybe you can live a real life, just like the Resistance. Maybe you can be free, too.  
Through a gap in the trees, you spot the chain fence that borders the road and you can see the occasional car drive past. The cultists are still behind you, seemingly closer than they were before. Maybe they’re getting faster – more and more determined to catch you with each step you take towards slipping out of their grasp. Or maybe you’re getting slower with exhaustion. Either way, you’re gaining on that fence and you need to ditch this flea-ridden beige sweater, or else you’ll be shot on sight by the first Resistance member or trigger-happy civilian that you run into. You tear it off as you run, leaving you with the grubby white T-shirt you wear beneath it and leaving it sprawled across the dirty forest floor – **the second step towards freedom.**  
You reach the road and climb through a hole in the fence just in time to wave down a Resistance truck. “Please stop,” you scream, your voice hoarse from taking in the cold air as you run. “Please, I need your help!”  
The truck grinds to a halt a few feet past where you stand and for the first time in a long time, you crack a smile as the man inside throws open the passenger door. You clamber in – desperately clutching at the fabric of his sleeve as he helps you up onto the seat – and the truck speeds off with a loud screech of rubber against asphalt. You look back at your former friends in the wing mirror as they watch you disappear into the horizon before being engulfed in a cloud of dust that’s kicked up by the tyres – **the third step towards freedom.**  
In the quiet of the truck, you take a few moments to gather your composure. You hadn’t really thought about what you’d do if you actually managed to escape. You have no home, no family, no money. Everything you had to your name belongs to the cult now, thanks to John Seed and his poxy law degree. "What kind of monster tricks people into giving up everything they have?" You ask yourself. Although that’s not the worst thing you’ve witnessed from John Seed. You’d been stationed at his ranch a few times, after all, and the things he did in there were nothing short of barbaric. You wrinkle your nose as you cross over the bridge into Holland Valley, passing a billboard with John’s face on it. “We love you,” it reads. Like hell they do.  
“You got anywhere to go?” the driver asks, snapping you from your thoughts and breaking the peaceful silence that you were quite enjoying.  
“No, I don’t,” you tell him, shaking your head.  
“What happened back there? Did the cult grab ya?”  
“Yeah, something like that,” you reply, watching the scenery zoom past the window and he speeds through the Valley.  
“Well if you ain’t got nowhere else to go, then I’ll take you to Fall’s End if you like? There’s good people there. Mary May and Pastor Jerome – and who could forget that Deputy.” The man smiles as he talks and you can tell he’s smiling at the thought of the Deputy. You think of how you used to smile the same way when thinking about Joseph and you can’t help but wonder how close the Deputy is to becoming another version of him; the Resistance following their every word and seeing them as some kind of hero. Both sides think they’re the righteous ones and neither has any tolerance for the other. The Deputy could easily start making the wrong choices and the Resistance are so indebted to them that they’d follow without question. It’s a dangerous road that this movement is going down and you know what damage that kind of loyalty does. But everyone thinks _they’re_ the good guys; maybe that’s the problem with people.  
“Sure,” you shrug. “I’ve heard a lot about the folks at Fall’s End and this Deputy of yours. Like you say; I ain’t go nowhere else to go.”  
The man nods and takes a left down a long road towards a small town. Smoke rises into the air from the smouldering frame of a house – a house that you had a hand in burning. The truck pulls up and the man gets out and walks around to your door, opening it and helping you out of the vehicle. “C’mon, I’ll introduce you to everyone,” he smiles, shutting the door behind you.  
He guides you into the Spread Eagle; a cosy little place that’s typical of a small town bar. Your dad used to drink here back in the day, but you haven’t stepped foot in this place in years. Even when you’d come here with John and his men to take over Fall’s End, you’d politely refused to go inside for fear of stirring up some memories of the family you’d left behind.  
Mary May recognises you instantly, though not as the small child who used to play around with darts and sneak sips of their father’s beer. She recognises you as the monster who waltzed into town a few weeks ago and took anything that wasn’t nailed to the floor. She recognises you as the enemy, which you think is understandable. You’d just never thought of yourself as a monster before now. But you guess you’re learning a few home-truths this week.  
“What the fuck are you doin’ here?” she asks, raising her gun.  
The man steps between the two of you and after a few minutes of tense negotiation, he manages to talk her down.  
“We can’t promise you’ll be any safer with us. Peggies are killin’ us left and right,” Mary may says. “You really wanna join the fight?”  
“Yes,” you nod sincerely, resting your hands on the bar as she brings up a rifle from behind it.  
“How badly do you want those fuckers to pay for what they did to you?”  
You clench your jaw at the thought of them. You think about your parents, your friends. You think about the bodies that lined the streets on the way here – the people the cult had deemed unworthy of any kind of life and that they’d killed and simply tossed aside to decay. You think of all the things _you’ve_ done in the name of Joseph Seed and his quest for control - the evil, _ungodly_ things that you’ll surely go to hell for – and you _know_. You _know_ the answer to Mary May’s question. For the first time in years – perhaps your entire life – you’re certain of yourself. You’re certain of what you want.  
“I want them dead,” you tell her. “With my last breath, I will curse those sick fucks to hell and I will smile widely while I do it.”  
Mary May nods her head in agreement. “Good,” she says, handing you the rifle. You take the rifle from her hands and look down at it. You take a deep breath and throw the strap over your head. With one final look of understanding, you turn around and head for the door. “Oh, and Y/N?” Mary May calls after you. You look back at her over your shoulder. “Welcome to America,” she smiles.  
– **the fourth _and final_ step towards freedom. ******


End file.
